I had nothing to complain of with regard to the official preparations for Rienzi, but I soon noticed that it was looked upon merely as a conductor’s opera, that is to say, all the materials to hand were duly placed at my disposal, but the management had not the slightest intention of doing anything more for me.  All the arrangements for my rehearsals were entirely upset as soon as a visit from Jenny Lind was announced, and she occupied the Royal Opera exclusively for some time.

During the delay thus caused I did all I could to attain my main object—­an introduction to the King—­and for this purpose made use of my former acquaintance with the court musical director, Count Redern.  This gentleman received me at once with the greatest affability, invited me to dinner and a soiree, and entered into a hearty discussion with me about the steps necessary for attaining my purpose, in which he promised to do his utmost to help me.  I also paid frequent visits to Sans-Souci, in order to pay my respects to the Queen and express my thanks to her.  But I never got further than an interview with the ladies-in-waiting, and I was advised to put myself into communication with M. Illaire, the head of the Royal Privy Council.  This gentleman seemed to be impressed by the seriousness of my request, and promised to do what he could to further my wish for a personal introduction to the King.  He asked what my real object was, and I told him it was to get permission from the King to read my libretto Lohengrin to him.  On the occasion of one of my oft-repeated visits from Berlin, he asked me whether I did not think it would be advisable to bring a recommendation of my work from Tieck.  I was able to tell him that I had already had the pleasure of bringing my case to the notice of the old poet, who lived near Potsdam as a royal pensioner.

I remembered very well that Frau von Luttichau had sent the themes Lohengrin and Tannhauser to her old friend some years ago, when these matters were first mentioned between us.  When I called upon Tieck, I was welcomed by him almost as a friend, and I found my long talks with him exceedingly valuable.  Although Tieck had perhaps gained a somewhat doubtful reputation for the leniency with which he would give his recommendation for the dramatic works of those who applied to him, yet I was pleased by the genuine disgust with which he spoke of our latest dramatic literature, which was modelling itself on the style of modern French stagecraft, and his complaint at the utter lack of any true poetic feeling in it was heartfelt.  He declared himself delighted with my poem of Lohengrin, but could not understand how all this was to be set to music without a complete change in the conventional structure of an opera, and on this score he objected to such scenes as that between Ortrud and Frederick at the beginning of the second act.  I thought I had roused him to a real enthusiasm when I explained how I proposed to solve these apparent difficulties,